Writings and Witterings



The twisted old tree
at the foot
of the garden
is really my grandfather.

His timepiece in the hall
ticks off the days,
clay pipe on the mantle shelf
mouths his old ways.

Boots on the gravel
lead to the door,
stamp on the doormat
same as before,

rocking chair creaks
in time with soft chimes,
wisps of smoke
evoke, cloak, smile at the joke.

Polly Robinson © 2014

18 thoughts on “Timepiece

  1. A lovely evocative portrait, Polly.


  2. Interesting rhythm Polly. Was that intended?


  3. A loving tribute with a bit of whimsy! Love it!


  4. Lovely poem, creating a lovely homely picture.


  5. Ooh I can smell the pipe smoke. Very evocative🙂


  6. I love the multidimensionality here. Grandfather is here as tree, as memory and as spirit. very nice.


  7. What lovely memories of your Grandfather, Polly. I like the whimsical touch in places and that the things of his keep him there with you in spirit!


    • They’re just the small things, always… and there are so many more but I didn’t want to risk ‘overload’ – glad you enjoyed it Kirsten.


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